


Butterfly

by shinlluminous



Series: Seventeen One-Shots Collection [10]
Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Death, M/M, meanie
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-27
Updated: 2016-12-27
Packaged: 2018-09-12 15:59:11
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,047
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9079555
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shinlluminous/pseuds/shinlluminous
Summary: Jeon Wonwoo has been born with the gift to see butterflies. Not just any butterflies, but crimson butterflies that indicates a person's final 99 days. One day he wakes up, only to find the butterfly floating right beside his head.*I accidentally only posted the last part yesterday but I've corrected it :)





	

 

 

Wonwoo is expecting someone.

 

Well, not exactly someone.

 

‘-he was a very loving man-‘ a dry, croaky female voice was stiffled with tears – a voice who Wonwoo reognized as belonging to his grandmother. It was like he heard her sniffing and sobbing amplified through the microphone more than she actually made a speech of her recently deceased husband. Beside her was a taller, slanky woman in black, with a handkerchief over her mouth. She was crying too; his mother.

He stood beside his father, who had a rather grim look on his face. Everyone looked grim, in fact. Some of them looked more indifferent than the rest, but perhaps the most indifferent would be Wonwoo himself. It wasn’t like anyone could blame him. He was only seven years old. Plus, he barely ever visited his grandfather while the latter was still alive; there weren’t many memories to mourn over. And besides,

_He already knew his grandfather was going to die. He had known for three months at least._

_Is she coming?_ He wondered as his frail legs grew restless, and he subtly looked to his left and right.

_She came before didn’t she? Did she go away?_

His child-like self sighed a little, obviously no longer focusing on the speeches everyone gave, the sudden words of kindness strangers decide to throw on his grandfather whom Wonwoo doubted they knew him at all. After what seemed like forever, at last, it was time to descend his grandfather’s lifeless body, neatly placed in his coffin down under the soil.

Keeping to his father’s side, Wonwoo watched expressionlessly before his attention drifted to the lowered coffin.

Then he saw her.

She was little, but glowing. She rose from the slits of the dug grave, fluttering in the cold air of winter like a spot of red against the dominating white. She was beautiful.

Wonwoo subsconsciously raised his eyes, parallel to her fluttered wings that continued to pull her up to the sky. ‘What are you looking at, son?’ his father’s voice startled him, and Wonwoo looked up at his father’s genuine smiling face before he hung his head, shaking them in denial timidly. He managed to glance up again, hoping he could catch a glimpse of her but the butterfly was already gone.

 

*

That wasn’t the first red butterfly that he saw, and certainly not the last.

They were as common as houseflies; Wonwoo saw them almost all the time whenever he stepped out from the house and entered places of general public; flying next to the heads of faces he had never seen; most of them adults, the senior citizens, in some cases teenagers and even people his age.

Three months ago, Wonwoo’s mother got called back to her hometown. It was a lovely srping afternoon and Wonwoo was playing with their dog in their small backyard. She was flustered and desperate, but no mother would dare leave her only child alone. After a boring two-hour drive, with questions imroperly answered about what was going on, the two of them reached an exclusive looking bungalow set in the suburban area in another town of the district of Seoul.

It was a large looking house, and Wonwoo felt foreign as he forced himself to sprint to his mother’s fast paces as she held his small hands and led him into the house, the door opened by a man in a black suit and a nonchalant face. _Was this a palace?_ Wonwoo had always read of stories where people come to houses, but have other people open the doors for them. These people do nothing but bow all day.

The boy couldn’t admire much of this palace he was in as his mother now picked him up and ran up a set of curving stairs that was three times wider than the ones at home. They came to the upstairs floor of the palace, in a carpeted corridor before long, and Wonwoo found himself in a room. It was nothing but light at first, until his mother put him down.

He adjusted himself to the scene.

A white bed, some odd-looking strings, two grown-ups, a box that let out a constant beeping sound. . .

. . .and a butterfly.

His mother and the grey-haired woman he saw standing on one side of the bed were muttering to each other, and the butterfly was there, just above the bed.

It wasn’t the first one he saw, but it was the first time he knew.

As beautiful and elegant as it seemed, it was nothing more than just a death prophecy.

 

*

 

Wonwoo had no other ultimate favourite prayer of his than to never come to the day when he will wake up, see his mother in the kitchen with a red butterfly fluttering beside her head, or  his father. It was perhaps the only prayer he’d quietly recite whenever he was pulled away to come to church almost every Sunday.

And yes, God answered his innocent, pure prayer.

But yes, that was the only prayer He answered.

 

*

 

Waking up to a winter morning has become some kind of secret pleasure for Wonwoo; truthfully because today school was closed. Snow was awfully heavy last night and when Wonwoo glanced out of the window from his bed, it looked like it wasn’t about to stop anytime soon. Everything looked white and cold; empty and vast what with the seeping silence of blowing winds.

But for a change, he wasn’t excited this time. He turned lazily in his bed, slamming his face down on his pillow, refusing to get up. He had a headache. He always had a headache but he figured it was normal. They weren’t particularly serious; nothing to run home and lie down to rest about. He stretched out his hand and slipped it under his pillow, searching for his phone blindly until it got hold of it, and he checked the time.

8.47am

It was still early. His mother wouldn’t come to wake him up until an hour more or so but he knew he couldn’t go back to sleep. That would make his headache worse. He lied down for a while, staring at the ceiling until he finally found a point to force himself up, groaning as he did. He lifted himself off the bed and with wobbly legs he dragged himself to the bathroom to wash his face.

_God, the morning light is terribly blinding today._

He rubbed his eyes hard as he stopped in front of his bathroom mirror, not caring about the chill he got when he stepped on the cold tile floor and he sighed before staring at his own reflection.

His heartbeat stopped.

He kept staring at the image of himself, staring back at him with surprised eyes. _His_ surprised eyes. There was nothing different, he had the same jet black hair he always had, the starnds falling into his eyes, the same sharp eyes, the same eyelids, the same nose and pair of lips. Except that he looked groggy but so does everyone who just woke up right?

_But not everybody wakes up with a butterfly beside them._

Wonwoo’s eyes were fixated, glued to the crimson glowing creature that looked more like a red firefly with butterfly wings. ‘Haven’t seen you in a long time,’ he sighed. He turned to his side, admiring it and he raised a hand, but the butterfly kept flying a little farther away, as if wanting to be close but afraid and shy at the same time.

He curled his fingers to himself, exhaling a deep breath, his gaze to his own when it finally hit him.

_I’m going to die._

His brows furrowed in disappointment, in a slight feeling of loss and sadness.

_99 days._

He shut his eyes, his legs shaking yet his heart has calmed. He had calculated. He had been able to see these butterflies for around a decade now. It’d be weird if he barely knew anything about them at all. As much as they scared him sometimes, he had grown attached to seeing them, just not with him, or anyone he loved.

_I’m going to die._

He repeated inside his head.

_Why am I not. . .sad. .?_

Wonwoo thought about his mother, her strong pair of stern eyes and his father’s gentle smile. He thought about his fairly happy childhood, the Christmases they spent together. He remembered his father tucking him in bed and telling him short stories of an Arabian princess or a talking deer and a crocodile. He made a rough run through his memory lane and-

He let out a scoff, smiling wearily.

He knew.

_So be it._

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Part II

The sun rose rather early this morning and rather obviously. The floor of Class 2-2A was flooded with blinding light that showered through the windows, resting on the tiled floor like a thick glowing blanket. Kim Mingyu scurried to the end of the windows and reached up to the cord of the blinds and closed it, shielding himself from the light while he was it.

‘Being tall helps, huh?’ Nayoung curved a small smile before she continued sweeping the classroom; her selfless initiative has always kept the classroom clean. Mingyu merely grinned, holding onto the dustpan for her. He turned to the back door of the class as he stood idle, his eyes fixated on a certain someone. Jeon Wonwoo never really was someone who stood in the spotlight. Nor was he popular. Mingyu wasn’t really sure why he was staring either. He has never really talked to him before in the last two years they were in the same class. Whether it was the latter’s look that made him seem like a boy from the league of big dogs or just Mingyu’s lack of excuse to talk to him, he would never know. But as the black-haired boy walked into class, his neat style gleaming as usual, Mingyu couldn’t help but stare.

He watched Wonwoo erase the chalk writings on the blackboard in front of the class, resting his chin on the tip of the handle of the dustpan as he did. ‘Mingyu,’ Nayoung called him. His hands slipped off and accidentally, Mingyu bit his own tongue, sending him into a small rush of pain. Nayoung only shook her head, gently taking away the dustpan from him. Mingyu slammed a hand over his mouth, trying to swallow down his pain and upon seeing his teacher walk towards their classroom, he clumsily scrambled to his seat, dropping down onto his chair.

Wonwoo still felt slightly dizzy from his ordeal two nights ago, but he tried his best to focus in class. He was sure he’d be fine today, even though his doctor gave him medical leave. His mother personally wanted him to stay home but he was reluctant. _I’ll be fine,_ he told himself. _I’m not alone._

But no matter how hard he tried to assure himself, Wonwoo couldn’t see past the trauma it caused him; evident through his trembling fingers and failure to compose his mind. He remembered his mother’s yells in blurry flashes, he remembered being lifted and when he opened his eyes two nights ago, he woke up to nothing but whiteness and the smell of antiseptic. _A heart disease. Three months._

It was the reason for the butterfly beside his head.

Everything changed a little. His mother cried in grief, although she tried to hide, and Wonwoo felt as if he wanted to tear his sore heart apart. He didn’t want her to cry like that when he’s gone, but he knew it was going to break her until then, definitely even after he dies, and it keeps him turning and tossing in bed.

Lunch break commenced following a bell ring and Wonwoo disappeared elsewhere before Mingyu could stop him, but the latter knew better where he went. He hesitated for a moment. Mingyu _did_ feel a bit anxious to talk to him but this time around, he had a reason to talk to him, although the excuse was rather grim.

*

‘You’re not supposed to put clothes on Olaf. He’s gonna melt!’ Minseo slapped her brother’s arm. Mingyu laughed, fixing a wool scarf around the supposed ‘neck’ of the snowman the two siblings were busy forming.

‘No, look. If Olaf wears clothes, the cold is going to stay inside his clothes.’

‘Really?’ the 7-year old was sceptical of her older brother.

‘Really. Cross my heart,’ he smiled.

‘Fine,’ she said, inhaling.

‘Do you wanna go look for his arms?’ Mingyu was already walking a little farther away from the front yard of their house. Minseo did not respond. ‘Minseo?’ he called, turning. The girl was idle, staring straight across the road. ‘Hey-‘

‘What are they doing?’ she pointed to the source of distraction. Mingyu looked up, following her gaze. It was another house, on an opposing street, but more specifically Minseo was pointing to a group of their neighbours. He narrowed his eyes for a clearer view. He recognized that house. There was a man, who looked to be about in his 40s carrying another slanky looking boy while a woman helped open the door to the backseat of their sedan. _Jeon Wonwoo. Is he okay?_

‘I guess…someone fell sick?’ Mingyu wasn’t really sure, but behind his unwavering voice, he swallowed hard. He watched the car pull out of the driveway and zoom pas through the street before he looked down at his little sister. She had her head low, her eyes closed and her hands clasped together. ‘What are you doing?’

‘I’m praying for the sick person to get better,’ she said, all too innocently. ‘Amen,’ she added after mumbling a few prayers.

‘Amen,’ Mingyu whispered.

 

*

 

It seemed like his sister’s prayers had been answered, Mingyu hoped.

His feet felt heavy on the floor as he dragged himself to the exit of the ground floor left wing. The exit led to a perpendicular narrow space in between the wall of the school building and a greenhouse. He could begin to hear the faint sound of running water louden, and the noises from the academic wing recede as he walked. He was wary of his surroundings, and he constantly looked around as he paced until he finally saw a being sitting on one of the benches at the far end of the greenhouse. He could feel his steps slow down due to anxiety, but he gathered his courage and cleared his throat.

Wonwoo barely noticed anything until he heard Mingyu calling his name. He felt a little startled when he saw the tall boy standing in front of him. ‘Er, hi.’ Mingyu had his hands in the pockets of his pants but Wonwoo could still see the slight timidness he showed on his face. Mingyu clasped his lips, scratching the back of his neck nervously. ‘I, erm-‘

Wonwoo put down his book, waiting for Mingyu to say whatever it is he wanted to say. He felt rather shy himself. ‘How are you?’ he asked, an in a rather concerned manner. Wonwoo was frankly surprised at the question. _Does he know? That’d be a coincidence wouldn’t it?_

The seated boy must have stuttered too long because Mingyu soon felt himself heating up. ‘I mean I er-‘ he tried to diminish the awkward silence. He cleared his throat. ‘I saw you…I mean your parents carrying you out-‘ his voice gradually softened. ‘-the other day.’ He felt as if he might have trespassed into forbidden grounds; Wonwoo’s static expression was causing to him get a little more anxious than he expected.

‘Oh,’ was all Wonwoo said.

‘Yeah,’ Mingyu was starting to feel out of place.

‘I’m okay, I guess.’ Wonwoo replied. ‘I-I don’t look sick, do I?’

Mingyu shook his head, helping a shy smile before he scoffed. ‘Do you always come here to read?’  he asked. Wonwoo lifted his book, revealing a little of the grim-looking cover.

‘Yeah,’ he grinned. ‘It’s quiet so I kind of like it,’

‘Wait is that-‘ Mingyu noticed the title of the book and recognized it at once, despite barely knowing much about books. He usually only read recipe books for pleasure and nothing else. It was what his passion was anyway: food.

‘Yeah, I know.’ Wonwoo shrugged, trying to hide a fond smile. ‘It’s old but I like reading it,’ he answered. The Phantom of the Opera captured him once and never failed to amaze him every single time he read it. The angst, sadness, the plot as a whole and of course the romance had always made Wonwoo drown and it was the reason he liked European History so much. Oliver Twist, Les Miserables were among other of his favourites.

‘Wow,’ Mingyu had never encountered someone with such unique taste in books, and it suddenly made sense how Wonwoo managed to score well in his tests all the time. Frankly, it was rather impressive to him, and Mingyu could feel himself looking up to the boy more and more. ‘No wonder you like History so much,’

‘It’s that obvious?’ Wonwoo felt heat rising to his cheeks and embarrassment beginning to seep in. He thought he was passive enough in class.

‘Not that it’s bad though,’ Mingyu insisted.  ‘Anyway, I’m going to grab some lunch. Do you wanna come?’

Wonwoo thought about it. He was shy, he truly was. Mingyu was loud and popular, unlike him. Everybody knew him as far as he was concerned. But it wouldn’t hurt to make friends would it?

‘You don’t mind?’

‘Of course not, that’s why I’m asking.’ Wonwoo was slightly anxious, frankly, but Mingyu seemed honest enough, and based on his personal judgements, Wonwoo had no reason to doubt him whatsoever. He was as well-meaning as a boy could be.

‘S-sure,’ he accepted. Mingyu’s face lit up a little. He didn’t think much of it at first, but he had always liked making new friends. Who would have thought Wonwoo would find a reason to live in such a short span of time?

 

*

 

‘WONWOO WAKE UP!’ a violent whip of Wonwoo’s blanket accompanied Mingyu’s overly excited morning alarm voice. It was something he had to get used to. Wonwoo immediately snapped his eyes open, and clutched to his body in the sudden chill. He always thought he might die from a heart attack like this. But so much has happened within the span of a mere three weeks.

Wonwoo never would have thought that he would click _this_ fast with Kim Mingyu. Perhaps living across the street and being classmates made it easier for them. ‘I’m up, I’m up.’ Wonwoo groaned. He knew why Mingyu was so excited today. It was Tuesday, which meant that it was Sushi Day. Every single day, Mingyu had a place to go to for lunch. Monday was Cafeteria Day, Wednesday was Chinese Takeaway Day, Thursday was Burger Day and Friday was Steak Day. Mingyu liked Tuesdays the most. One was because there were less stressing classes; they only had Sports, Arts and English. Secondly, his favourite food was Sushi, so Wonwoo understood his ecstatic self.

Mingyu had to constantly be reminded to focus in class throughout the day until lunchtime finally commenced with the loud ring of the school bell. He was as eager as a little boy running out of the school grounds and Wonwoo struggled to keep up. ‘What are you going to do after we graduate?’ he popped up a conversation as they were walking towards the sushi place. Wonwoo gave it a thought so long Mingyu thought he had not heard his question.

‘I don’t really know,’ Wonwoo said quietly, secretly cursing himself for even considering the question when he knew he wouldn’t last to senior year at all, let alone graduate high school.

‘I think I want to get into accounting,’

Wonwoo beamed a smile at his taller friend. ‘Work in a firm? It would suit you. You’d get to sit and just work with numbers all day,’

‘But my parents said it would be a boring job. I don’t know,’ he shrugged. ‘Maybe I’ll teach you know? Maybe I’ll be a professor and teach Advanced Maths,’

‘I’d like to see that,’ Wonwoo accidentally blurted out a personal intention. It cut him a sore scar inside; he _did_ want to see Mingyu grow up. _No;_ he _wanted_ to grow up with Mingyu. But he knew that was impossible. As he turned to his left, trying to hide a painful frown, he caught sight of the butterfly still, loyally floating beside him in a reflection staring right back at him from a store window. He clutched his fists tight.

‘Or you know, engineering sounds fun too. When I was little, I used to love playing Lego so much, and my dad said maybe I had a knack in building stuff so maybe-‘ Mingyu’s voice faded as he turned to Wonwoo, finding that he wasn’t there walking beside him. ‘Wonwoo?’ he turned behind him, trying to search for his friend. He craned his neck, then finally spotted the boy holding onto the street lamppost, trying hard to support himself. He seemed weak. ‘Wonwoo!’ Mingyu rushed to the boy, and found him struggling to breathe. Wonwoo had his hand clutched to his chest, grunting and his knees had dropped to the ground. Mingyu looked around. ‘What’s wrong? What happened?’ Mingyu asked, and seeing that Wonwoo was unable to answer, immediately reached into his pockets for his phone. The last thing Wonwoo remembered was Mingyu shouting when his head collapsed onto his lap.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Final

 

Wonwoo remembered dreaming of something so unpleasant he did not wish to wake up again. The image that kept appearing in his head made his heart drop so low and so heavily with grief he wished he could just die then. It was _him._

He was staring down at Wonwoo, with eyes that seemed at loss, empty of everything but sadness. His grin was gone, and he was silent. Too silent. Wonwoo couldn’t hear his laugh; he barely even spoke a word. It felt cold, hurtful, _lonely._ Wonwoo didn’t want to open his eyes, but he kept seeing it.

_Mingyu._

_I’m sorry._

Wonwoo didn’t wake up on an alarming note. When he opened his eyes, his ward room was unlit, except from the beam of light that came flooding from the hospital corridors. _It’s already dark out,_ he confirmed by glancing out of the room windows. His head hurt, and he felt like throwing up, but he had barely eaten a thing all day. ‘You’re up,’ he heard a familiar voice, and a shadow looming over him from the entrance.

‘Mingyu,’ he attempted to sit up straight, and was nervous to see him. Mingyu walked in casually and beamed his normal smile.

‘Do you mind if I switch on the lights?’ he asked.

‘N-Not at all,’ he watched Mingyu carry a plastic bag into the room after he switched on the lights in the room.

‘Your parents are downstairs. I thought I’d come up.’ He settled down on a high stool besides Wonwoo’s bed. It was only then that Wonwoo noticed that he was still in his school clothes. Except that he didn’t have his blazer on, and one side of his sleeve had been pulled up to his elbow. ‘I got you strawberry milk,’ Mingyu pulled out a small cartooned drink and passed it graciously to Wonwoo.

‘Thank you,’ he said quietly. ‘What happened?’

Mingyu sighed. ‘You passed out and-‘, Mingyu shrugged. ‘I called the ambulance, the doctors checked on you and said you had a heart attack.’ He answered, but the look in his eyes looked more like he had questions than answers. ‘You didn’t tell me you had-‘ he didn’t know how to say it.

‘I’m sorry,’ Wonwoo apologized. ‘I didn’t think it was a big deal,’

‘The doctors said you have an expected due date,’

Wonwoo froze. The guilt wouldn’t settle and he didn’t know how to answer Mingyu about it. He lowered his head, his gaze dead. ‘I was planning to just…fade away, forgotten like that. It would be easier,’ he scoffed a smirk.

‘You didn’t plan to meet me at all, did you?’

‘I didn’t,’ he turned to Mingyu. ‘But I don’t regret it either,’ he added. ‘You’re probably the only close friend I have in…years,’ he chuckled. ‘I’m sorry we didn’t get to eat sushi,’

Mingyu stifled a small laugh. ‘I should have talked to you years ago,’ he said in a tone that was soft, unfamiliar to Wonwoo’s ears. ‘But I was too scared to,’ Wonwoo could hear a pang of regret in his husky voice.

‘Why?’ Wonwoo was baffled anyone would be scared to talk to him. After all, he was a nobody, just another student wanting to pass his classes and loved reading books.

‘I don’t know,’ he shrugged. ‘I guess you were too smart so I-‘

Wonwoo laughed again, his nose crinkling. ‘What kind of answer is that?’ he demanded.

Mingyu tried to hide his embarrassment. ‘But I’m glad I talked to you. I mean, it hasn’t been too long but I like hanging out with you. A lot, and I mean it.’

‘Thanks, Mingyu.’ For once, he felt as if he didn’t want death to come so fast.

 

*

 

The doctor who had attended to him had announced that Wonwoo’s heart was indeed weak, and worsening. There was additional medicine prescribed for Wonwoo, and of course, the possibility of cure was raised as a question. ‘We’d have to find him a donor.’ He said. ‘As soon as possible.’ And they left it at that.

Now Mingyu wouldn’t leave Wonwoo alone at all. Despite his usual cheeriness, Wonwoo could sense a foreign remorse inside of Mingyu every time they met.  He tried hard to act as if Wonwoo didn’t have a deadline, and he did well. Every time he had an idea, he never failed to make Wonwoo forget everything that revolved around them. The rush, the joy, the feeling of peaceful isolation from time, space, everything,

Wonwo loved every second of it. He liked during the days when Mingyu would throw a piece of crumped up paper to his desk just to distract him, or drag him to buy bread at the convenience store on the way home every single Friday they could feed the fishes that swam in the stream at Mingyu’s favourite park.

And at night, it would be a quiet night. Wonwoo would help Mingyu with his History and Linguistics revision and Mingyu would in turn help him with his Mathematics. ‘And then you have to switch the numbers,’ Mingyu instructed Wonwoo, who intently followed the guide as he wrote his answers in his book.

‘Ah! Okay, I got it!’ Wonwoo exclaimed, finally concluding the answer. ‘Did you get 3x as well?’ he anticipated excitedly. He leaned to peek at Mingyu’s answer, and smiled to himself gladly. When he noticed Mingyu’s unnerving silence, he looked at him, finding the other staring into his eyes.

‘What’s wrong?’ he couldn’t find any happiness in Mingyu’s deep, black eyes; only curiosity.

‘It’s like you’re not dying at all,’ he scoffed a difficult grin. Now sadness appeared in the depth of his eyes. ‘You focus in class, you study like you’re the same as any of us, like you’re going to sit down and answer your finals in four months’ time. I don’t know if you’re acting or if you’re hoping.’ His voice was soft, quiet. ‘Sometimes I forget you don’t have much time left until I see you swallow your pills.’ He swallowed hard. Mingyu couldn’t get rid of the feeling. There are days he admittedly would forget of Wonwoo’s condition, and the daily things they do make him content, happy. Then when Wonwoo takes his medications, his heart would drop, and he would pray again. Maybe God could spare him. _Maybe._

Wonwoo looked away from Mingyu. A quiet pause followed and Mingyu felt tears hanging on the rimlines of his eyes.  ‘I don’t have hope,’ he spoke up. _I want to tell you so bad, I want to hope. I_ do _pray, every single day, every single night, that maybe God would let me grow up a little older. I want to hope but I wake up with a clock ticking and it follows me everywhere. I hope for it to disappear but it never does._ ‘What would you do…if you had only 50 days to live, Mingyu?’ he asked.

‘I…I’d spend it with the people I love. Maybe do things I never got the chance to do,’ he answered simply.

‘I used to think that I want to die forgotten. Slip away without anyone noticing, you know?’ he nodded. ‘But honestly,’ he sighed. ‘I _do_ want to be remembered. At least by my family and by you,’

Mingyu maintained his gaze on him. ‘I want to live the last days of my life, just living…going to school, coming back home, playing, reading.’ Wonwoo continued. ‘Maybe it’s useless but I feel satisfied living another day as normally as I can, just like this.’

The other boy couldn’t hold it in. He lowered his head, biting his lips hard. Wonwoo could hear stifles of sobs escape him. ‘You’re the closest person I have now, you know?’ Mingyu’s voice was hoarse, but sincere. Wonwoo was slightly taken aback. Never would he have ever thought that Mingyu would consider him so.  He had other friends, _many_ friends who could make him happier than Wonwoo did. He didn’t think Mingyu would have a problem moving on from him after he died but he couldn’t deny what he was seeing. He felt something inside his heart.

 _I don’t want to die too,_ it cried.

‘Who’s going to walk with me back home after you go?’ he asked.

Wonwoo laid a hand on Mingyu’s back, murmuring, ‘I’m sorry,’ before he took the boy in heartfelt embrace. He felt something hurt even more and he cried silent tears.

 _I don’t want to die,_ his pulse quickened. He shut his eyes. It was too painful for him now; his tears, Mingyu’s tears. If only God could hear.

 

*

A month passed like a breeze. Though Wonwoo expected to feel anxious, it wasn’t due to his numbered days. ‘Don’t run, you’re going to hurt yourself!’ Wonwoo heard his mother call out from the door as he clumsily got up to his feet after sloppily putting on his shoes. Taking heed of his mother’s words, he instead walked quickly to the other side of the road.

As usual Mrs Kim greeted him delightfully and welcomed him in. As much as Mingyu was a usual guest inside Wonwoo’s home, it was the same vice versa. ‘Mingyu, wake up!’ he tugged hard on the boy’s shoulder after rushing into his room, with Minseo trailing after him like a curious puppy. Mingyu was still sleeping, naturally. It was 9am on Saturday, and Mingyu usually woke up at 10 or 11.

Lazily, he made a grunt, indicating that he was up. It was very unusual for anyone, let alone Wonwoo to wake him up so early. But he opened his eyes anyway. ‘Why, what’s going on?’ he groaned.

‘They found one! The hospital called just now. Mingyu, they finally found me a donor!’ his eyes lit up.

Of course, the two opposing houses were ecstatically happy at the news. ‘They can’t confirm yet. The donor needs to be examined further, but they said it’s looking hopeful.’ Wonwoo’s mother explained.

‘I feel so anxious,’

‘When is it going to be confirmed?’ Mingyu asked once in the privacy of Wonwoo’s room. He couldn’t contain his excitement and trembled with flooding joy.

‘Next week,’ he nodded. Mingyu’s smile faded, and he tore his gaze away. ‘What’s wrong?’ Wonwoo asked.

‘I won’t be here next week,’ he told Wonwoo. ‘I’ll be at my grandparents’ house for the break,’ he announced.

Wonwoo helped a small smile. ‘It’s alright,’ he assured him.

‘What if it’s confirmed and I can’t make it before you go for surgery?’

‘Then you’ll make it after,’ Wonwoo replied calmly. He felt his heartbeat speeding. ‘It’s stupid but I think…this whole thing is going to work out for me,’ he grinned. Mingyu couldn’t help but put his worry to rest as well. ‘Then things will all be normal again,’

 

*

 

Wonwoo looked up at into his mother’s eyes for comforting reassurance. She lightly squeezed his hand and gave a gentle smile as she watched him sit beside her in the waiting room. Wonwoo struggled to put his heart to rest, for some reason. Mingyu said he’d try his best to come back earlier, but he couldn’t promise. Wonwoo was afraid, if there was a chance he doesn’t make it out of the surgery alive, he’ll never get the chance to see Mingyu ever again.

Today was the day the results would come out whether or not the surgery could proceed. The donor had been examined and Wonwoo was doing a final check-up. ‘Mum?’ he called. ‘Will I get to meet whoever this person is?’ he asked.

‘You could ask,’ she answered. Wonwoo nodded, taking deep, slow breaths. He would be indebted for life to whoever it is generous enough to donate a heart for his own dying one. He wanted to express his gratitude at least, even if he doesn’t make it out alive. He closed his eyes for several seconds before he opened them again, turning to his side. There he looked out of the window, at the whiteness of the view. He wondered what it would be like if he was to die. Would it be plain white? Would there be a light, like everybody said there would be?

‘Honey, your phone’s ringing.’ Wonwoo’s mother held up his phone and passed it to him. To his delight, Mingyu’s contact name was on the screen and he answered the call.

‘Are the results out yet?’ he asked from the other side of the line. It felt relieving for Wonwoo to hear that familiar voice again.

‘Not yet,’

‘I’m here already. Where are you?’

‘Level 4, I’m in the waiting room.’

‘I’m coming,’ there was the normal excitement in Mingyu’s voice, one that made Wonwoo helplessly smile a little without noticing. His mother caught a glimpse of it, smirking knowingly to herself at her accurate motherly instincts. Wonwoo restlessly waited for a mere two minutes to spot a tall boy coming down the hallway to the waiting room.

Mingyu beamed a wide grin at him and Wonwoo gave a small wave. Mingyu politely bowed at Wonwoo’s mother. ‘Where are your parents?’ she asked.

‘They’re parking the car. So, you’re still waiting? Are you nervous?’

Wonwoo shrugged. ‘Oh, there he is.’ He motioned to the doctor walking towards them with a clipboard. Wonwoo stood up from his seat, anxiously rubbing his hands together.

‘How is it?’ his mother questioned. The doctor appeared very calm and composed, almost positive.

‘Good news,’ he smiled to the mother and child. ‘We can proceed with the surgery,’ he announced.

‘Can I ask? If it’s okay I want to meet the donor,’ Wonwoo voiced out. The doctor raised his gaze after jotting down something.

‘I’m sorry, the donor personally requested to remain anonymous.’ He chose his words carefully. ‘I will pass on your gratitude, though, if that’s what you’d like?’ he asked. Wonwoo nodded. ‘If you still wish to proceed, we can schedule the surgery as earliest as today, 5pm.’ He explained, exchanging looks with both of them.

Wonwoo’s mother laid a hand on his shoulder and squeezed it, smiling reassuringly. He nodded understandingly. ‘We’ll get a room ready,’ the doctor said before he excused himself.

‘I need to call your father,’ the woman’s voice was uncertain, but filled with hope. She exited the room to place the call, leaving her son and his friend alone. His lips started trembling, his hands grew cold suddenly.

‘Wonwoo?’ Mingyu’s voice did nothing to snap him out of his temporary frozen stance. The only thing that did, however, was a trickling floating line of fading glow. The butterfly had finally, after 84 days, shifted its spot. Wonwoo tracked it with its eyes, watching intently. _It’s flying away._

Time seemed to have stood still for a moment.

 _At last,_ Wonwoo exhaled. He expected it to fade into thin air, but instead, it made a turn, circling around him once. Wonwoo came face to face with Mingyu. ‘Are you okay?’ Mingyu asked, a look of concern on his face.

Wonwoo stayed stiff, his gaze sharper than ever. ‘Mingyu,’ he finally found control to speak. Mingyu raised both his eyebrows, waiting for whatever Wonwoo was about to say. There seemed to be fear in his eyes. Sheer fear but he couldn’t put a finger on what was in his mind that scared him so much. ‘You?’ his voice was a deep croak, and he swallowed hard.

Mingyu’s eyes widened. Wonwoo couldn’t lift his eyes off the butterfly that had now settled…on Mingyu’s shoulder. He lowered his head.

‘The donor is you?’

Mingyu lowered his head in guilt. A moment of silence followed before Mingyu raised his head again, smiling. ‘I was dying too,’ he shrugged. His smiled faded instantly. Wonwoo couldn’t respond. _After all this time? Then why wasn’t there a butterfly before?_

Wonwoo took several steps back. ‘I don’t want to do it,’ he murmured. ‘I-I won’t do it,’ he turned around to exit the room. ‘I’d rather die,’ he tried to take a step forward but Mingyu’s grip on his arm was strong enough to stop him.

‘You’ll do it,’ he told him. ‘You’ll do it because you have a chance and I don’t,’ Mingyu’s voice sounded strained as well.

‘How long?’ Wonwoo asked.

‘S-Since a few weeks ago,’ Mingyu answered quietly. He licked his lips nervously. ‘I’m sorry, I know I should have told you but I-‘ he shook his head. He couldn’t think of any excuse. ‘-I’m gonna die and there’s nothing anyone can do about it. I thought the last thing I could is be a donor, and then I remembered you.’

Wonwoo couldn’t hold in his tears anymore. He started sobbing helplessly, and Mingyu uncurled his fists to hold him. ‘I’m sorry,’ he whispered. ‘But this is my last wish. Even if you don’t make it, at least I want to die knowing I tried.’

_I will make it, and you know that._

‘When is-‘ he couldn’t finish his question.

Mingyu clasped his lips, tightening his grip on Wonwoo. ‘T-two more days,’

‘Why?’ Wonwoo muttered. Mingyu just shook his head. He had no answer for that. Or perhaps he did, but he didn’t know how to say it. All he was sure was that this day, he swore would be the best day of his life; the day he’d give his heart to Jeon Wonwoo.

 

* * *

 

 

A new heart meant Wonwoo could cry hard and long. He woke up from the surgery crying and sobbing non-stop, especially when his parents came to visit him after attending Mingyu’s funeral. It took him several days to adjust to the new emptiness. Life was quieter, and sadder, he thought. But he tried his best to be happy. After all he had a new heart; Kim Mingyu’s heart.

He improved emotionally after a week. His appetite returned, and he continued Mingyu’s unforgettable lunch schedule, although now he would go alone, or sometimes with Mingyu’s friends, who all mourned his passing. It was funny, Wonwoo felt as if he changed sometimes. He felt genuinely happier than usual. He found that talking to people was actually fun and nothing scary. There were instances he would be alone, sitting in his own room or at the park where he and Mingyu would feed the fishes on their way back home from school.

Sometimes he would cry.

Sometimes he would remember.

 

Every single time he would pray to God he would meet Mingyu again.

 

‘You look a little pale, are you okay?’ Wonwoo’s mother expressed her concern as she spotted him walk through the hallway, returning home from school.

‘Yeah, it was just cold outside.’ He assured her before he went upstairs to his room. He felt sadness reeking within him again and sighed loud. He immediately collapsed on his bed, grunting. He felt restless, emotionally. No matter how hard he tried he would always be hit with moments of unsettling heaviness inside his heart – inside _Mingyu’s_ heart. It was strange, Wonwoo knew it wasn’t because he couldn’t move on from Mingyu’s permanent absence.

He felt like he didn’t belong.

As if he needed to find his own peace.

And that peace, he could only think of one place where he could find it. He felt the urge to cry again, and he shut his eyes tight. The emotional stress he felt that particular moment had him drift off to sleep out of exhaustion, and he had woken up feeling stuffy because he hadn’t taken off his school uniform since the night before. His head felt heavy and he raised his wrist to look at his watch since it was still dark outside. It was only 4am.

Reluctantly, he pushed himself off the bed to change into something a little more comfortable. He took off his blazer and headed into the bathroom. His mouth tasted foul and his cheeks were slightly damp from last night’s sobbing. His vision was a little blurry but he managed to find his way to the sink. He turned on the tap and washed his face, standing in front of the sink. He waited for his vision to clear before he squinted his eyes in front of the mirror.

He rubbed the vapour off the mirror surface.

‘Jesus,’ he murmured. Even in the dark it was obvious. Wonwoo slammed a hand over his mouth, trying to hold in a laugh. He inhaled heavily, smiling to himself. After he changed and freshened a little he returned to his bedroom and switched off the lights. ’99,’ he muttered under his breath, finding his way to his bed. He lied down. For once in a long while, he felt his heart calm down.

He slept again, this time happily.

After all, he was going to see Mingyu again.

 


End file.
